Where Do I Hide?
by Lover of Angelus
Summary: To his dying day there are only two things that Sam Winchester is truly afraid of. One is his brother dying, the other DHS. Even as he attends college, he can still see the man in the black suit that came and tried to take him away.


III** Where Do I Hide**

II

I **Disclaimer**: Me no own, You no sue. Me avoid the dog poo, You like to eat glue.

II

III **Warning**: Bit o' blood, nothing to graphic.

* * *

_He said, she said…  
__No she don't  
__Be back before morning  
__And you know she won't  
__Well I remember that summer  
__Like yesterday  
__And I remember his mother  
__As he was dragged away_

_-Where Do I Hide  
__Nickelback_

_

* * *

_

Sam Winchester hated many things. Sam Winchester loved many more things. And to his dying day, there are only two things that truly frighten him. One is his brother dying, but greater than that, the fear of DHS. Because even if Dean died, he could still join him. But if _they_ came, he would never be able to find his brother again and he would be left alone in a home of unfamiliar cheeriness and ignorance. Even as he attends college, he can still see the man in the black suit that came and tried to take him away.

Sam owns many things. Sam has many memories. And to his dying day, there is just one memory that wakes him in the middle of the night, one memory that scared him more than the nightmare of Jessica on the ceiling. It is the memory of the man in the black suit that came and tried to take him away.

* * *

Sam was eleven years old, Dean fifteen. Their father was on a hunt and they knewit would be a few days before he got back. No matter, he had given Dean money and his instructions. But, Dean knew the rules, could say them backwards, he knew how to take care of Sam and knew what to do when strangers came a callin'. 

However, Dean didn't know what to do when cops came busting down the door. So he had acted on instinct, which was to take Sam upstairs and hide in the bathroom, door locked and shower curtain closed huddled together like lost orphans.

"I want every inch of this place searched!" boomed a voice. "Leave no stone unturned!"

And all the while Dean ached to wrap his finger around a trigger. But Sam was scared, and he whimpered into Dean's shirt as he tried to melt into his older brother, tried to drown out the shouting and sound of footsteps.

Then the knob to their sanctuary was turned and Dean remembered that the lock no longer worked after the time their dad hadto break in. The first thing they saw was a pistol, though Dean couldn't identify it through the opaque curtain, it was followed by a hand and then the arms and eventually a man's body came through and Sam couldn't help but let out a cry of fear as the shower's curtain was ripped open. The man frowned down at them. Dean suddenly jumped out and barely managed to wrestle the gun out of the man's hand, and, as it clattered to the floor, scooped it up. He aimed and fired, the bullet tearing its way through the officer's knee. Dean didn't waste any time as he grabbed Sam by the wrist and pulled him out of the tub and into the hallway.

And then they ran. It seemed like there were officers everywhere and Dean was shooting left and right, never missing once as they all fell to the floor, kneecaps blown out. The two brothers were almost to the door when the man in the black suit appeared. He looked at Dean and the pistol, he looked at the shaking Sam; both were dotted with blood that was not their own and the man in the black suit was impressed.

"Where did you learn to shoot like that?" he asked.

"I'm fifteen, where to do you think?" Dean answered, leveling the gun. "You're not taking him," he snarled, backing away slowly until they both hit a wall. The gun wasn't aimed for the thigh or knee, this time he aimed for the head; he wasn't loosing this one. The groans of the fallen men echoed around him as he straightened his back and glared at the man in the black suit.

"You need help," the black man in the black suit said quietly.

"How the hell would you know what I need?" Dean asked harshly. "You don't know me! You don't know Sam! You don't know this family or how this family works!"

"I know that you just shot four men without any hesitation," the man said. "Now what does that say about your father?"

"'Protect Sammy. Protect Sammy. Protect Sammy with everything you have. Don't let anything get to him and don't let anyone hurt him.' Like I need Dad to tell me that," Dean declared, hazel eyes shining as Sam's grip tightened on the hem of his shirt and the eleven-year old buried his face in his brother's back, trying to will everything away.

"Why don't you let us take you away from all this? I know a home that has been looking for two boys to adopt; they'll love you and never leave you on your own to fend for yourself," the big man promised.

"Sounds annoying," Dean bit back. "I love my family, I don't care how dysfunctional we may seem we're still a family and it's mine! And some guy in a suit can't just show up and take that away!" he shouted as he pulled back the hammer. "Get out of my way or I swear to God, you won't live to see another sunrise."

"Do you really think that you can pull that trigger?" the man challenged.

Dean raised his head and fired. The man let out a cry of pain and fell to his knees as he clutched what remained of his left ear.Before he was able to stand again, another sharp and terrible pain shot through his skull as his right ear was blown away.

* * *

Sam Winchester hates many things. Sam Winchester also loves many more things. And to his dying day, there are only two things that truly frighten him. One is his brother dying, but greater than that, the fear of DHS. Because even if Dean died, he could still join him. But if _they_ came, he would never be able to find his brother again and he would be left alone in a home of unfamiliar cheeriness and ignorance of what really happens at night. Even as he attends college, he can still see the black man in the black suit that came and tried to take him away. 

Sam remembers everything that happened that night, and nothing, not new memories or even Time herself could erase the fear and scent of blood and the feel of cold sweat from his mind. He asks Dean about that night after they kill the Wendigo. Dean looks at his brother, sighs and gives a sad smile as he walks over and hugs Sam, because even though Sam's twenty-two, he's still afraid and Dean can sense his fear as if it were his own. Sam hugs back because Dean is there and he knows that Dean never leaves and there is nothing that can get rid of him and sometimes he has to be reminded of that.

* * *

III

II

I

II

III


End file.
